


Map To The Heart

by Krisser__kris



Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-08-12
Updated: 2002-08-12
Packaged: 2017-12-05 17:04:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/725714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krisser__kris/pseuds/Krisser__kris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Duncan doubts his tomorrows with Methos. Can the ancient immortal change his mind?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Map To The Heart

**Map To The Heart**

**by Krisser**

 

Duncan woke in his favorite position, spooned up against his lover’s back, his hardness wedged firmly within the crack of Methos’ taut cheeks. His hand followed the curve of the older immortal’s smooth hips of its own accord. Fingers splayed, his hand dipped over and encountered an answering hardness from his waking partner.

Methos pushed back hard, trapping the Highlander’s rigid erection soundly.

Duncan chuckled, “You’re giving me ideas, Old Man.”

“Only ideas?” The older immortal replied dryly, “I must not be doing it right. I want more than ideas.”

Duncan leaned over the lithe body and nibbled on the long neck, biting at the junction of the shoulder. “Love you, Old Man.” 

Methos groaned and rolled over, capturing the Highlander’s lips. He kissed the lips as if he owned them. He bit them, he licked them, he sucked them into his warm mouth, conquering the Scot all over again.

The ancient man rolled under his younger lover, spreading his legs wantonly. Duncan needed no words to understand his lover’s request. The sought after pathway, still moist from the wee hours encounter, allowed the Highlander to slip in with a smooth stroke. Completely sheathed in the single move he gave a quick pop, hitting Methos’ prostate dead on.

An unrestrained scream of pleasure greeted the dawn. Duncan grasped the unattended cock and moved his fingers on it in tandem to his thrusts. Methos arched into Duncan’s hand and back against Duncan’s taut sacs. There was no escaping the pleasure so he rode it, cresting with no control, the Highlander’s name on his lips.

As the warm fluid spilled over his hand it was enough to send the Highlander over his own edge, emptying himself deep within his lover’s body. Sated, he collapsed along side his love and snuggled into the welcoming embrace.

\---

MacLeod woke to an empty bed and an empty loft. Methos was gone and once again the Highlander wasn’t sure if he’d be back.

Unaccountably depressed after such a lovely dawn, Duncan headed to the bathroom to shower.

\---

Adam Pierson finished his meeting with the museum personnel and headed for the bookstore. He had put in a couple of hours before he found his hand on the phone dialing Joe’s number.

“Dawson.”

“Hello, young man,” the wise-ass voice said over the line.

Joe rolled his eyes as he answered, “Adam. Haven’t heard that in a while. What’s up?” 

“Finished early and I was hoping you might know where your immortal is.” 

Joe knew to most, that the casual tone of the question would have been taken at face value, but Joe knew that was when to look deeper. “Problem?”

A sigh, “Damn, I was hoping you’d tell me.”

“What am I, your Dear Abby?”

“You are much better looking, plus one knows that bartenders are much better at dispensing help than frustrated old ladies.”

“Well, no, I haven’t… damn,” Joe’s paperwork fell to the floor. “Let me put you on speaker phone.” Joe pushed a button then rested the phone arm back in its cradle. “Adam?”

“Hear you fine.”

“He had a class at the university this morning.” He bent over to pick up his papers.

\--------

His morning class was not getting his full attention and he excused them early. He tried to distract himself with paperwork but by lunchtime he was too restless to stay put. He headed to Joe’s.

His watcher was bent at an odd angle trying to retrieve some papers off the floor. The Highlander bent down automatically and fetched them for the man. 

“Duncan,” the watcher said loudly as he sat back in his seat after a quick look at the still connected phone.

“Busy?” Duncan inquired, afraid that he was interrupting. 

“Not too busy for you, my friend,” Joe replied sincerely. “What’s up? You look like shit,” the watcher added honestly.

Duncan sat, realizing that he had come to his watcher to talk about Methos. So few knew that they were together, the Scot found his only solace in Joe.

“Joe, I go home each day not knowing if this is the day that Methos has left without a trace,” the words were bereft of self pity, just the sad acceptance of a lost man.

MacLeod’s look of a dam about to spillover let Joe know that the rest of the conversation was best heard in private. “Mac, let’s take a walk.”

Emotional brown eyes closed and a single head nod showed the Highlander’s agreement to his watcher’s suggestion. 

Joe ushered his immortal out of the office without a backward look at the phone.

Outside, they walked silently down the alley to the small park across the highway. 

After getting Joe seated, Duncan leaned against the elm tree.

Joe asked gently, “Mac, you gotta know that Methos loves you.” He’d seen that the week after Kalas.

“Do I? He’s never said it.” MacLeod reigned in his pain and continued more calmly. “At first, I put it down to his self protection. But maybe he knew he wasn’t in it for the long haul and is trying to protect me.” Duncan’s voice changed, believing now what he was saying as if saying the thoughts aloud had just made them true.

MacLeod pushed himself away from the tree and paced around Joe’s bench. “He’s probably been looking for a way to let me down gently. He’s more caring of others than he let’s on.”

Joe wasn’t sure what to say, up to this point, he would have sworn that the oldest immortal was completely taken with the Highlander. But maybe he had viewed his friend as Adam Pierson, watcher and not as Methos, the Immortal.

Joe tried a different route, “Mac, Tessa…”

“Up to this point in my four hundred years, she had been the greatest love of my life. No one had touched that. Now, with Methos, the love is even more intense…”

The Scot shook his head, “With Tessa, in the back of my mind it was always there, that one day she would die. With Methos, I’ll always know he’s out there and now, that he’s not mine…I don’t know…Joe… Joe, we’ve come so far, after Bordeaux …well, I didn’t know if we could …but away from him I was miserable. Then, the last six months, I’d forgotten I could be that happy. But lately, he’s seemed so restless, I recognize the signs.”

Duncan’s cellphone interrupted and he answered it automatically. “MacLeod.”

“Duncan.” Mac held the phone close to Joe so he could hear too. The Scot had recognized the voice immediately. “I could use your help.” Amanda’s sweet voice beseeched Duncan.

With a deep sigh Duncan asked, “Where are you?”

“New York.”

“What’s the problem?”

“Why do you always assume that?”

“Amanda.”

“Well, they’re claiming that I have something I shouldn’t…”

“And who are they?” Duncan was half worried, half irritated, but Joe was laughing and trying to muffle the sound.

“Well, the police department. Duncan, are you going to help me?”

Shaking his head no, “Yes, Amanda. Give me your exact location. I should be there late tonight.”

Joe thought that Amanda had good timing, this would keep Duncan from brooding over Methos.

MacLeod made plane reservations as he walked backed to Joe’s. “Let Methos know? Joe nodded, “And let him know, I understands if he leaves.” Joe nodded solemnly as the Highlander got into his car and waved before he turned the corner.

Duncan had a packed suitcase in the trunk and he figured he had just enough time to make the flight. He hoped that Methos would be home when he returned but he prepared himself for the other possibility.

\----

The bartender didn’t have to be immortal to feel the ancient presence sweep into his place as though he was part of the Spanish Inquisition. 

“You want to tell me the rest?” It may have been phrased as a question, but it was more of a command.

Joe sank into the nearest chair, his thoughts unclear to his next move. How much could he share without violating Mac’s confidence?

The oldest Immortal made it easy for Joe, “Did it get worse after you left the office?” A rigid pause, then, “Is he leaving me?”

Joe’s heart almost burst with joy. These two knuckleheads, all the years between them and they were worse than two teenagers in love. “He thinks that you’re the one leaving. That you’ve been trying to let him down easy.”

Methos’ expression remained unchanged as his thought process assimilated Joe’s words and the meaning behind them. The constricting band around his heart eased as the meaning became clear. His Highlander was yet unclear of his intentions. 

This he could deal with.

Aloud, all he said was, “I see.”

“Tell him…” Joe started but was interrupted.

“So, where is he now?”

“Half way to New York.” 

The vice retightened the bands once more. Outward, though, his face remained impassive, “Oh?”

“Amanda’s in jail.” Joe enjoyed the fear, then jealousy that flashed infinitesimally in the ancient eyes.

“Hum, Mac say when he’d be back?” 

The watcher smiled at the feigned nonchalance that went into the casual question.

“Nope.” Joe watched closely and thought he might have seen more fear. He added, “He didn’t really want to leave, but …”

“But it was a clan member, I understand.” Methos nodded, the vice gone. “Thanks, Joe.” 

Then the most enigmatic man that the watcher knew left as though he was on a mission.

\----- 

MacLeod made his way home. He was glad to be back, five days in New York was plenty. Duncan shook his head, tending to Amanda’s problems was not really time consuming, just costly. She had her diamond, Cartier had their money and the NYPD was left without a case.

The Highlander had gently refused her offer of dinner and bed. Instead, he had kissed the end of her nose as he boarded a plane back home. Hopefully, back to Methos, but he couldn’t be sure. Anxious to know that answer had made the flight a long one.

He had hope when he saw the light but relief washed through him as he felt the strong presence as he opened the downstairs door. He didn’t draw his sword, since Bordeaux, he could recognize Methos separate from all others.

Duncan entered the loft to a familiar scene, Methos in his own particular sprawl upon the couch. There was a beer on the coffee table and a book in his hand. Hazel eyes connected with his in greeting.

Duncan then noted there was something different about the loft. It seemed full. He put his bag down and really looked around. There were a dozen plus world maps strewn about, littering the front room. A big sign that stated – Start Here – gave the Highlander an idea where to begin.

The first map looked very old. Very few countries were noted on its surface. Most were places no longer in existence. A toothpick stuck in gum had a post-it attached. It read: 4000bc, Methos born somewhere in here.

Mac turned to look at his unusual lover with a smile and noted his intensely serious look. He moved to the next map wondering what he was supposed to get from this. Again, a toothpick in gum, this one read: 1000bc, Horseman. 

Mac didn’t turn, just moved to another map. The next map read: 50bc, Rome. 

Duncan remembered that Methos went naked a good portion of his time there. A naked Methos running about. His cock twitched at the vision.

The fourth map looked more familiar in the country placement. The post-it read: 795, North Atlantic to Iceland.

Methos must have really hated that. He stole a glance and caught the old man watching him enigmatically.

He moved to the next map. 1453, Germany.

The next: 1816 Switzerland.

The next map was current: 1984, Paris, watcher.

He felt a moment of jealousy that Joe had known his immortal longer than he had. He shook it away as he read the next post it.

1995, Meet Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod.

The word ‘meet’ was highlighted. Duncan felt the same way. A red letter day in his existence.

Duncan couldn’t help grinning foolishly at the next map. 1997, With Duncan.

The Highlander turned and started toward his lover, but the look from Methos stayed him. An anxious fear rested in the depths of the hazel eyes he loved most in the world. He needed to finish the maps and figure out what this all meant, then he could erase that fear.

The next map read: 2010, with Duncan.

The Scot felt his heart beat faster. The next map said: 2050, with Duncan.

He hurried to the last three.

2100, with Duncan.

2250, with Duncan.

3000, with Duncan.

The Highlander knew he didn’t have to worry any longer about losing Methos without a trace. He turned to his lifeblood. Joy radiating off him like the heat of a summer sun.

Methos had held his breath as his Highlander had read the last maps, still unsure, still afraid of rejection. But after the agonizing depth of pain he’d had heard in Mac’s voice that morning at Joe’s, the ancient immortal knew then he would have to risk rejection and a broken heart to remove that pain from his beloved’s voice. He waited.

He had expected to see an ease of fear, possibly some contentment, but not the absolute joy that was illuminating his highlander.

The man was incandescent. His love shinning out, all of it directed to the lean man now standing in the middle of the room.

Duncan rushed forward and scooped up his prize, “I love you more than I’ll ever be able to put into words. My heart is full with that love.” He swooped in and stole a kiss from lips frozen in a surprised O.

“And I love you, more than you will ever know. But from this day forward, you will never doubt that again.” Methos’ voice was full of the promise he gave with his words.

Duncan lifted his Methos and carried him to the bed. He kissed him hungrily as he divested him of his clothes. He didn’t even remember shedding his own clothes as he reached for the sandalwood oil. He kissed and nibbled the long expanse of exposed neck as he coated both their erections in the oil. He covered his lover’s body with his own and thrust sinuously against the answering hardness. 

They writhed together, cocks aligned, lips aligned, fingers entwined as they increased the speed, never losing the rhythm. They crested their waves of sensation together and each drank in their own name off the other’s lips.

Sated, warm, loved, they cuddled together. Duncan in his favorite position, spooned up behind his lover’s back.

fin


End file.
